Beyond Repair

Chapter 7 - Clara

I felt awful. If I had known his issue with me calling him Mr Matthews had been about the accident, then I would have relented sooner and certainly wouldn't have used it to get a rise out of him. I was stubborn, not cruel.

Then there was the other thing. It was the first time I had remotely had my hands near the male appendage, and it had felt strange beneath my touch. It was bigger than I had expected, too. The shock of it had led me to freeze, which was mortifying. I didn't know what I had been thinking delving into the man's crotch like that. Even if he hadn't been hard, it wouldn't have been a good idea. It wasn't like I could confess to my employer s***h patient that my shock and dismay had been the result of me being a virgin. I wasn't even sure how I was meant to react to that situation.

I busied myself tidying up the mess before seating myself to eat the sandwich that was at least relatively intact. I felt like such an i***t. Wandering around someone's house wearing next to nothing wasn't ever a good idea, but the situation just seemed to get worse and worse.

Feeling him beneath my fingertips had done something to my stomach that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The other girls at university had talked about such things, but I had been too embarrassed to stick around for the whole conversation. I wondered if things would have been different for me if I'd had a mother to turn to for advice.

The ache between my legs was so intense. It made me want to hold my hand to the fullness contained there, but I wouldn't, I couldn't. It just felt so wrong, so promiscuous. I wasn't looking for instant gratification; I wanted something special. I had been holding out for the right man, a kind and caring man. Certainly not a man like Max. He was the complete opposite of what I wanted in a man. I wanted someone who would treat me right, and who would look after me. Max couldn't even look after himself. He was too selfish to try.

Still, he didn't deserve what had happened. Wanting to make it up to him and quickly I whipped him up a fresh sandwich and a glass of juice. I placed it on a tray and headed for his room with it. I tried to elbow the door to knock, but that resulted in no noise and me nearly spilling his juice all over the sandwich. Determined the sandwich was going to make it to him in one piece this time. I kicked at the door and waited, no answer. I kicked harder, and the door gave way and slowly swung open.

If I had thought the kitchen was awful, I hadn't considered how mortifying life could get. I froze again. Stuck to the spot holding the tray and taking in the sight before me. Max was laid out on the bed, his p***s in hand, and was playing with himself. I wondered why he hadn't stopped when I came into the room, why he wasn't as mortified as I was. I looked at his face, a drop of sweat slowly trickling down his temple. His face angled slightly away from me and the black Airpods in his ears.

The look of concentration on his face was immense, and for a second, I just watched, fascinated as he plunged his hand up and down his p***s. The warmth inside my v****a spread further. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Then I saw the movement on the tablet. The blonde-headed girl was in what could only be described as an awfully uncomfortable position. One leg on the bed and one in the air as a p***s penetrated her over and over again. She looked like she was crying out in pain, and her face was contorting. I wondered what sort of violent p**n Max was into. Then, the similarity hit me.

The fact that the girl on screen could have been my double hit me in the gut with such force that I dropped the tray. The wood bounced, the plate and glass smashing, and the sandwich ended up scattered on the floor and covered in orange juice.

Max looked up at the noise, his jaw dropped open and his cheeks reddening. His spare hand quickly flew to his ears and yanked one of the headphones out. "What the f**k?"

"I felt bad and brought you a er sandwich. When I tried to knock, the door opened." I felt like such an i***t. It made me look like such a p*****t. "I wasn't watching you, well, not on purpose. I didn't know what I was supposed to do." He was still just lying there c**k in hand and it just made me even more nervous. "These things don't exactly happen to me every day."

"Hey, if you wanted to join in, you should have just asked." I was certain that I had turned some shade of beetroot. "It's okay. It's not a big deal." He said it all with a slight laugh in his throat which I was sure was to try to ease the tension in the room. It didn’t work. My face was on fire. I held the back of my hands to my cheeks in the hopes of extinguishing the flames. "Anyone would think you have never seen a c**k before... Oh, shit."

Finally, he made an effort to put himself away, rolling from side to side, trying to inch his shorts back up. He was trying so hard to cover himself that he was rocking side to side at an alarming rate. I reached forward and placed both my hands on one of his biceps with the intention of stopping him from tossing himself out of the bed. Feeling his muscle beneath my hands was a complete mistake. All the while moaning was coming from the earphone he had pulled out.

"Look, I'm mortified. I'm going to go back to my room and never leave it again. Well, until the morning when I run screaming from your house."

"You don't need to do that."

"You must be joking, I'm never going to be able to face you again." I went to move away but his hand moved to cover mine.

"Seriously. It's nothing. Most athletes have s*x tapes roaming around, so this is nothing compared to that."

"Yeah because everyone can see their idle j*********f and still face them." The words were out before I could stop them. I didn't know what the hell had gotten into me. Around him, I was a complete i***t and couldn't stop myself from screwing up again and again.

"Hold up, what?"

"Nothing. Sorry, again." I went to leave again, but he gripped my wrist. "Max, seriously, it's nothing."

"No, no. It all makes sense now. That thing with my game earlier, you're a fan."

"Yes, I guess, sort of."

"Earlier on when you said we were meeting but not for the first time, you didn't mean earlier today did you?"

"No. I meant when I was twelve and I came to a game. I was outside afterwards as you were leaving and you gave me a high five."

"I can't say I remember. I met a lot of fans."

"I know. You also make an effort to greet everyone who waits for you. Not to mention the visits you made to the schools in East London. My dad read me the article where you got mad with the press for stalking a primary school you were visiting. He was very impressed that you preferred to do the visits without gaining publicity for it. He said it showed what sort of man you were."

"Were? Harsh."

"Sorry. You're just not the person I thought you were. After everything that happened it changes you, I get it."

"Oh yeah, and what did it change me into?"

"It's not for me to say. I'm not judging."

"No, come on. You don't seem like the sort of person to hide from the truth." The hardness in his voice made me shudder slightly. It was my own fault, I had a habit of speaking without thinking.

"I don't like being rude either." I tried to pull away from his burning grip on my wrist, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Go on. I've got tough skin."

"Fine. You have turned into a pity party with a side of miserable scrooge-like behaviour." As soon as I saw his face I felt like s**t.

"How would you react when your entire life gets taken away from you?"

"I would try to build something better out of the pain. I like to think of myself as a phoenix rising from the ashes."

"Well, when it happens to you we will see, won't we?"

"It has already happened. My parents died. I was left with nothing and I had to rebuild my life all by myself. At least you have people around you who care. Look at Dickie and the effort he has put into trying to help you. I would have given up a long time ago if I had your attitude."

"I... I didn't know."

"No, you didn't because I didn't throw myself a pity party. You still have so much going for you, but you are too short-sighted to see it. The only thing I had to cling onto was a football star who gave up on life and the desire to make my parents proud."

"I don't know whether to be pissed off that you think I'm pathetic or glad that I've apparently still got so much going for me. I hadn't really ever thought about it like that."

"I don't think you are pathetic. Although, I would like you to pause the porn." Deciding it was best not to comment on the similarity between her and me. "Or not because I'm going." When I tugged my hand away again, he released it. I quickly scooped up the mess I had made on the floor. Looking up at him, "I'll clean the carpet in the morning and I will make sure I knock before I enter." I tried for a carefree laugh but it came out more like a cackle. It was ridiculous that I was behaving like such a moron. He didn't attempt to say anything, and I was so thankful that he didn't prolong my hell any longer. I headed straight back to my room and dumped the tray on the kitchen side on my way. Sinking into the bed as soon as I got in the room and letting the cloud-like duvet envelope me.